


The Search for Oneself

by MaiKusakabe



Category: One Piece
Genre: Ace's self-worth issues, Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, MarcoAce Week 2016, Pre-Relationship, The OP equivalent of a road trip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-08 03:32:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8828719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaiKusakabe/pseuds/MaiKusakabe
Summary: Ace’s doubts about his existence were as old as his memories. Then, when he was fifteen, he met Marco the Phoenix, and his already shaky world was thrown completely off balance.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is my contribution for the MarcoAce Week 2016. Instead of filling each prompt with an individual one-shot, I came up with a chaptered story, and each of the chapters fits (some kind of loosely) a prompt. The story will be completed by the end of the week if it kills me. It isn’t completed, now, because that’s what happens when you come up with a plot half a week before the posting date (that’s my brain for you, I guess). I’m working on it, though. I can’t guarantee there will be a chapter for every day, though (right now it’s very unlikely Day 6 will have one, for example).
> 
> The plot starts from a very simple premise: what if Ace had never met Sabo at Grey Terminal? Well, things go very differently.
> 
> This chapter is Day 1: Freedom.
> 
> We start out with Ace’s story, but we’ll get to see Marco in the chapter, so don’t worry about that :)
> 
> Also, just a little warning: this story is un-beta-read and not very well revised due to the rush, so I apologize for any mistakes you may find. I’d be grateful if you pointed out anything off you might notice.

Portgas D. Ace ran away from the place he had never quite called home when he was nine years old.

He had grown tired of being reminded that his mere existence was a sin, of asking random people about the possibility of Gol D. Roger having had a kid and always receiving the same answer (laughter; he should die; he didn’t deserve to live); Ace was tired of the bandits’ reminders that he had to earn his keep to live with them; he was tired of Gramps’ visits to beat him up and check that he was still hidden; tired of hearing about Gramps’ real grandson, who could live in the village and be with people who liked him, who was allowed to _live_ by a world that didn’t want Ace; tired of hearing Dadan grumble about how Gramps had saddled them with Ace (sometimes Ace thought Dadan wasn’t serious, others he was certain she hated him). So, after a particularly harsh fight with Dadan, Ace stormed out of the bandits’ hideout and didn’t look back.

He stole as much money as he could from various criminals at Grey Terminal and went into Goa Kingdom to buy food and water, a fishing rod, some navigation tools, and maps. He snuck into the port, hid, and waited for night to fall to steal a boat and leave the island.

Ace knew how to survive on his own. He had been doing it for years. He knew how to hunt, fish, cook, steal, and move through the worst parts of any city without drawing attention to himself.

And that was what Ace did.

He would reach an island, explore it a little, maybe catch some of the local animals for a large meal, resupply, and leave. Sometimes, Ace would ask a drunken random stranger, someone who wouldn’t remember the conversation come morning, what they thought of the idea of Roger having had a kid. He always received the same response. Laughter. He should die. He didn’t deserve to live. Ace would beat them up then. He got into a fair deal of fights, grew stronger.

 

* * *

 

 

Ace was twelve years old when his boat broke beyond repair, and he barely made it to the next island.

Instead of looking for a new boat to steal, he joined the crew of a merchant ship. It was an odd experience. Nobody told him he had to hide (to them, he was just Ace, who had introduced himself as a street kid looking for a better life and who had some pretty neat skills; no Gol, no D) and some of the sailors seemed to actually like him. They said Ace was too grumpy for a kid and tried to get him to loosen up. They taught Ace card games, they joked without mockery, introduced Ace to what they called “the fine art of drinking” and then patted him on the back sympathetically when he was hungover and let him sleep off the worst of it, they gave him unwanted advice about girls and laughed good-naturedly when it flustered Ace.

With them, Ace learned how honest business worked, how to gauge the real values of objects against the prices asked for them, how to haggle without threats and violence involved. They insisted that Ace needed better clothes than the ratty, patched-up ones he was used to keep until they were far beyond serviceable. And they paid him for his work.

At one point, Ace was asked when his birthday was, and when the day came he was surprised to find a large cake with his name and on it a wrapped package waiting for him. A gun and a good knife.

“You’re strong, but you never know when these may come in handy in our line of work,” the captain told him.

They were attacked by pirates once in a while, and Ace always made sure to fight at his best. Sometime while he was on the ship, East Blue pirates became too weak for him.

The guys liked to joke that one day Ace would leave them to go join the marines. Ace always held back a shudder and laughed the comments off, saying that marine life wasn’t for him.

Ace never got around to asking them about what they thought of the possibility of Roger having a son. He didn’t want to know.

 

* * *

 

 

Ace was fourteen years old when the ship ventured into the Grand Line.

Entering the Grand Line was a risky trip to make, but Grand Line goods sold for a lot of money in East Blue. The Grand Line was an odd place, with erratic weather, weird sea monsters, dangerous islands, and stronger pirates. It was an exhilarating sea to sail.

When the guys decided to return to East Blue once their storage rooms were full, Ace chose to stay in the Grand Line. They gave him a log pose and a map as a parting gift and told him to take care of himself (“as much as you can, at least”). Ace wished them a safe trip back and stood on the dock, all of his belongings in a backpack, until the ship that had been his home for over two years had disappeared from sight.

 _Home_. What an odd concept. Ace had felt more at home with a bunch of strangers who didn’t know who he really was than he had ever felt with the people that had raised him from birth.

 

* * *

 

 

Ace spent the following months hopping ships as he traveled from island to island. Sometimes he would exchange a trip for work on board and his promise to fight in case they were attacked, and sometimes he would actually pay for the trip with the money he had saved during his merchant days.

He was fifteen years old when he set foot on Mock Town. He had come as ship security here, because this place had a horrible reputation. This island hadn’t been his original destination, it was outside the route he had been following, but the ship’s captain had offered to pay Ace one hundred thousand belis in advance after he saw him singlehandedly take out a pirate crew in a bar brawl. So here Ace was, a hundred thousand belis in his pocket and playing bodyguard to a scared bunch of merchants who had come to resupply Mock Town’s bars of their necessary booze.

Ace was currently leaning against the bar of the third local they visited, scanning the large room with an indifferent expression to see if there would be trouble while the merchants and the bartender haggled, when he caught sight of a strangely vacant circle of tables. Empty except for one person sitting right in the middle of the empty tables. Ace stared, eyes wide open.

_No wonder this place is so subdued. Bet most of these guys didn’t run to avoid looking like cowards._

There, with an amused expression, sat Marco the Phoenix. If Ace didn’t know his face was plastered on a wanted poster above an outrageously high sum of money, he would think Marco looked utterly unthreatening, eating calmly with a drink by his side.

Marco met Ace’s eyes and smirked, amusement pouring from every inch of his face, and Ace took a split second decision.

“There won’t be any trouble here,” Ace muttered to his employers, and didn’t wait for a reply before resolutely walking up to Marco. He didn’t ask for permission to pull out the chair opposite of Marco, he just did, then dropped his backpack on the floor next to it, and sat down.

Marco raised his eyebrows, and the amusement in his eyes seemed to shift.

“May I help you?” he asked politely.

“Yeah. I got a question for you.”

Marco gestured for him to go ahead. Ace glanced around the bar, aware that most people had their attention on them even if they carried on with their own conversations. Ace leaned forward and pitched his voice low enough that it wouldn’t carry past this table. Ace hadn’t asked this question in years, but he had never encountered anyone other than Gramps who had met _him_.

“Tell me, what would you think if Gol D. Roger had ever had a kid before he died?” Most people thought this question was hypothetical, but Marco’s eyes sharpened and he seemed to take Ace in with more attention.

Ace resisted the urge to stiffen. He had never thought that anyone would take him seriously. Nobody ever had.

“I’d be curious to meet the kid,” Marco replied in a calm voice that didn’t carry any more than Ace’s had. “That’s bound to be an interesting guy.”

‘Guy’, not person.

_Damn._

“Interesting? That’s all you’d say?” Ace asked with forced calm.

“Yeah. Roger _was_ an interesting guy, even if he had no idea what common sense meant,” Marco said and _smiled_. Not mocking, not disdainful or disgusted. A _fond_ smile.

_What the fuck?_

“What’s someone like you doing here?” Ace blurted out, suddenly desperate for a topic of conversation that made sense.

Marco accepted the change.

“I’m tracking a merchant ship from one of our territories that went missing.”

“They send you for something like that?” Ace asked in skepticism. That sounded far too trivial for the First Division Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates.

“I volunteered. It’s been a while since I left the New World.”

“Oh.”

“What about you?” Marco asked, resting an elbow on the table and leaning forward. “What’s someone who asks such _interesting_ questions doing in a lifeless place like Mock Town?”

“Bodyguard job,” Ace said, pointing over his shoulder in the direction of the merchants.

Marco glanced above Ace’s shoulder and raised his eyebrows again. Curious, Ace turned around. His employers were staring at him as if he had grown a second head or something.

“I doubt they’ll have much trouble here today,” Marco said mildly. Ace snorted.

“Yeah, well, I doubt they expected someone like you to be here scaring the crap out of the pirates around.”

“They _do_ seem scared of me,” Marco said with some amusement. “But you don’t.”

“Should I be?”

“Not at all. Do you have any plans for after your bodyguard job?”

Ace shrugged.

“Probably tag along with them to the next island and be on my way.”

Marco hummed and reached for his glass.

“Would you like to join me instead?”

Ace stared. There was no other way to describe it, no other reaction he could have. Marco the Phoenix had just offered him to accompany him on a trip barely five minutes into knowing each other.

“Why?” Ace asked, his brain to mouth filter too shot for him to consider that questioning such a powerful pirate wasn’t the smartest of moves.

“I told you, I’m curious.”

 _Because of Roger_ , Ace’s mind supplied. He almost refused right away, but stopped himself and reconsidered. He had been running from Roger’s shadow his whole life, trying to prove that being Roger’s son didn’t determine who he was. Maybe this was his chance. Here, with a person who had actually known Roger in life, Ace could prove to himself that he wasn’t like him, that he was _just Ace_. If he could get someone who had known Roger to tell him as much, instead of telling him to stay hidden like Gramps had…

“I got paid to keep those guys safe while they’re on this island.”

“It’s fine,” Marco said with a shrug. “I still have to buy supplies. Would I be wrong in assuming you have a large appetite?”

 _Well, damn_. He had at least one common trait with Roger, it seemed.

“…No,” Ace admitted reluctantly. He bent down to look for his wallet.

“Don’t worry about that. I’m paying,” Marco told him.

Ace eyed him dubiously, but eventually shrugged and nodded. If Marco wanted to pay for his food, Ace wouldn’t be the one to refuse. It was money saved for something else.

“They should be done today,” Ace said. “Where should I meet you?”

“Here. I’ll come back when I’m done.”

Ace nodded. He stood up, slung his back over his shoulder, and headed for his stunned employers.

Ace wondered how much of that conversation the bar had heard. He hadn’t bothered to keep it hushed once the part about Roger was over, and neither had Marco.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’d like to point out that Ace’s thoughts in regards to Garp, Dadan, and the bandits are framed by the perceptions of the child he was at the time and what he thought of himself. But, still, it’s unarguable that Ace’s upbringing was extremely unhealthy and emotionally neglectful. Without Sabo there, Ace had no one to hold onto, so he didn’t.
> 
> I’m assuming that log poses can be followed in both directions of the Grand Line. Marco started out at Fishman Island and has been going back towards the start. Getting out is trickier, though, because you can’t cross Reverse Mountain back.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m overwhelmed by the reception chapter 1’s had in only one day. THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! (of course, now I’m terrified that I’m going to disappoint you all with the rest of the story).
> 
> Okay, self doubts aside… Here’s chapter 2. It fills, kind of loosely, the prompt for day 2: Hobbies.
> 
> Again, it’s been very poorly revised by me and not beta-read.

Sometimes, Marco liked to go off on his own. He loved his family, loved to be with them, but there was a certain appeal to traveling alone that he liked to indulge in from time to time. That was why, once the Whitebeard Pirates had received confirmation from Fishman Island that the missing merchant ship had passed through it with no issues, Marco had volunteered to follow its planned route. All the way to South Blue if it was necessary.

Marco hadn’t expected to run into someone so interesting in what should have been a routine mission. The kid —Marco had forgotten to ask for his name, and wasn’t that an oversight?— had caught his attention the moment he hadn’t averted his gaze when Marco had meet his eyes. But then… Well, what sort of person asked a question like that about themselves?

_“What would you think if Gol D. Roger had ever had a kid before he died?”_

There were many things that Marco could glean from such a question and the kid’s reaction to Marco’s answer. Did he expect a negative reaction? Maybe a denial of such a possibility? He had certainly been surprised when Marco had implied he had guessed the kid _was_ Roger’s son —it had been the fact that the kid had walked up to him and asked, clearly aware of who Marco was, that had tipped Marco off the most, though something in the stubborn set of his jaw and shoulders had also screamed ‘Roger’ just then. And, of course, why else would someone ask about such a thing if not because said kid existed?

 _Why_ did the kid even feel the need to ask that question, though? Marco didn’t like any of the responses he could come up with.

Marco was curious, yes. He was _very_ curious. The kid couldn’t be even eighteen. He had most likely been born around the time of Roger’s execution, perhaps in that year Roger had vanished before his death. Marco knew for a fact that the marines had tracked Roger’s steps during that year after the execution, and if his _son_ was alive… it was nothing short of a miracle.

A mystery had just walked up to Marco in a seedy bar at Mock Town. A mystery with a strong aura and self-doubts so large they couldn’t be hidden by any mask of indifference that Marco couldn’t just let go.

Marco watched as the kid left the bar, followed by the merchants that were still looking at him as if he was crazy, and Marco stood up to leave as well. If the kid was anything like Roger, Marco would have to buy five times the amount of food he had intended to buy.

 

* * *

 

 

Marco was sitting at the bar, very deliberately trying not to laugh at how everyone present was on edge, when he sensed the kid approach through the street. Alone.

He drained his glass, stood up, and walked out of the bar before the kid reached the door.

“Have they left?” Marco asked when the kid stopped in the middle of the street.

“Yeah, just now.”

“What’s your name? I forgot to ask.”

The kid blinked, looking genuinely surprised. It was as if he hadn’t expected Marco to ask. Another fact for Marco to file away for later consideration.

“Ace. I’m Ace. I don’t think I have to ask for yours.”

“Well, no, but it’s polite to introduce myself,” Marco said. He offered his hand. “I’m Marco.”

Ace hesitated for a moment, but then he accepted Marco’s hand. He had a strong grip, which wasn’t really a surprise.

“Didn’t you say you had to buy supplies?” Ace asked once they started walking towards the port, and he glanced from Marco’s empty hands to his back.

“They’re on the ship.”

“You left your supplies unattended on your ship? _Here_?” Ace asked again with incredulity.

Marco smirked.

“I assure you nobody here has the guts to steal from that ship.”

Marco had brought a ship large enough to be coated to cross through Fishman Island safely, but which he could handle well on his own. The mast had the Whitebeard Pirates’ flag at the top, and every single one of the sails had the flag painted on it as well. The weather here was stable enough that Marco had left the sails unfurled.

Ace whistled when they reached the port.

“Okay, someone would have to be suicidal to steal from that ship. Where are we going, anyway?”

“To the Calm Belt.”

“You think your ship went there?” Ace asked without hesitation. Most people would’ve shuddered at the thought of crossing the Calm Belt, even with a ship that had its bottom covered in seastone as this one did. Not that Ace knew that.

“I know they left Mock Town a week ago —people were _very_ helpful when I asked around— and they planned to cross into South Blue next. Have you ever been there?”

“Nah, just East Blue.”

 

* * *

 

 

Setting sail with Marco was an odd experience. Even though he hadn’t owned a ship in years, Ace was used to helping whenever he hadn’t paid for passage. Marco didn’t order him to do anything, he handled the entire process with the ease of someone who had been sailing for many years.

It was as he watched that Ace noticed something.

“Your log pose hasn’t locked.”

“I know. It gives me a point of reference.”

_A point of…?_

Ace’s brain supplied a response before he could ask. As they had prepared to enter the Grand Line, Ace’s old merchant crew had sought out information on how to leave the sea safely (or as safely as anything involving the Grand Line could be done). The usual method was to buy an eternal pose pointing to some island in the strip of the Calm Belt separating them from the sea they chose to head to. A handful of islands were close enough to the Grand Line that sailing through magnetic fields still worked, but at the same time they were close to the area where magnetic fields lost their strength, enabling a relatively safe switch between navigation methods.

“Shouldn’t the Whitebeard Pirates have eternal poses to the Calm Belt?”

“Yes, but it’s not as fun to sail that way,” Marco replied from the helm, looking at Ace with a wide grin.

“Fun?” Ace asked, nonplussed.

“Yeah, sailing through the Calm Belt is fun as long as you know how to handle it.”

“I don’t think many people would agree with you,” Ace pointed out, trying to imagine the reactions of any of the navigators he had met over the years if they had to cross the Calm Belt with only a log pose pointing into the Grand Line with no certainty of when the needle would stop working and, presumably, some ordinary navigation tools. Ace bit his tongue to hold back a chuckle at the mental images.

“Everybody has their own preferences,” Marco said offhandedly. He turned around to lean his back on the helm and look at Ace. “What about you?”

“What about me what?”

“What do you like to do?”

Ace blinked, surprised by how innocent that question was.

‘Eat’ was the first response that came to mind, but he suspected that was not what Marco meant. Fight? Ace enjoyed fighting, but it wasn’t something he did _for_ fun.

“I like to train,” he said finally. He hadn’t, as a kid, but he suspected he would have liked it if he’d had anyone other than Gramps to train with. He hadn’t met anyone challenging that hadn’t been an enemy since then, though. “And I like to explore islands,” he added, more sure of this second reply. Exploring islands wasn’t something that he _needed_ to do, but he did it anyway because he liked to do it.

Marco smiled.

“Yeah, that’s fun.” Looking at the fond expression on Marco’s face, Ace wondered what sort of weird islands Marco had been to over the years.

Maybe Ace would ask him.

 

* * *

 

 

They decided to cook dinner while they were still inside the area of influence of Jaya’s currently mild autumn climate.

Ace had immediately insisted on helping, assuring Marco that he knew how to cook, and Marco was trying really hard not to laugh. Ace _did_ seem to know what he was doing as he chopped vegetables, but he kept throwing wistful glances at everything that could be eaten without any need of being cooked first.

“Just eat whatever you want,” Marco told him, snorting at the positively _pained_ look on Ace’s face as he set the lettuce in the salad bowl.

Ace’s head snapped up. He looked confused.

“The food. Just start eating if you’re hungry.”

A dark blush spread over Ace’s cheeks.

“O-Oh. Sorry. I can wait.”

It was Marco’s turn to be confused. Roger, no, _nobody_ Marco could name and liked would’ve refused that.

“There’s no need,” Marco assured him.

“Really? People don’t usually like it when I start eating early on their ships.”

Instead of saying what a load of bullshit that was, Marco reached for the bowl of olives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to make up an “usual” way to leave the Grand Line that would be somewhat safe, or commerce with that sea would be scarce and practically suicidal. We were told after Enies Lobby that Vegapunk had developed a way to cover the bottom of a ship with seastone to cross it without drawing the attention of sea kings. While that was originally developed for marine use, I’m going with the idea that it’s being used for civilian and commercial purposes as well. I made up the thing with the eternal poses because it kind of makes sense that not the entire calm belt is affected by the magnetic fields, or islands closest to it (like the one where Loguetown is) and the part of the Blue Seas next to the Calm Belt would be influenced by those fields as well.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before you start reading this chapter, I’d like to drop a warning that writing anything even remotely action-focused is not my forte, so don’t yell at me.
> 
> And this is day 3: Laugh. Let’s say this is one of the loosely fitting prompts, but oh, well.
> 
> Here, enjoy another poorly-written chapter :D

Marco lounged in the ship’s small crow’s nest, staring up at the clear sky of the currently-spring area they were sailing through.

He had miscalculated a little when he had invited Ace along for his trip, forgetting that this ship only had one bed (a massive one, large enough to fit Jozu, but still a single bed). Ace had been supremely flustered when he had found out about it, but it was fine. Marco could go on for weeks without sleep. He hadn’t, in fact, slept at all on the ship while en route since he had left the Moby Dick, electing instead to sail through the night. The only times Marco had slept were when it took more than a few hours for his log pose to lock on to the next island. Ace had been hesitant to believe him, but had accepted his words as true when Marco had pointed out that he _was_ in a bit of a hurry and he didn’t want to waste time anchoring the ship to sleep.

Marco glanced down at his log pose. The needle still was pointing at the right angle.

Ace was still as much of an oddity as he had been at Mock Town. In the few hours they had been sailing together, Marco had noticed that, while Ace _could_ be sociable, he was somewhat awkward about it, as if he wasn’t certain of how his comments or actions would be taken. Marco had also noticed that Ace was unsure about his smiles. Whenever Marco thought he had him, Ace would bite the inside of his mouth and continue the conversation or change the topic. The most Marco had gotten out of Ace was a slight twitch of his lips.

As for Ace himself, he had no issue admitting that he had been traveling on his own for a while, playing bodyguard or helping on ships in exchange for a ride to another island. He had also mentioned being on a merchant ship for a few years, and while there had been a certain fondness in his eyes as he spoke about that… Well, Marco didn’t like the picture forming in his head.

How long had Ace been living on his own? What about any family? His _mother_? Surely a woman brave enough to be with Roger and give birth to his son wouldn’t let her teenage son be alone in the world at… what? Thirteen or fourteen? Ace had mentioned years, so that made sense. Had something happened to her that had left Ace alone and having to fend for himself?

What was clear to Marco was that Ace felt like an outcast, someone that would be hated by the world if only said world knew that he existed.

That hit too close to home for Marco to ignore it.

_“What would you think if Gol D. Roger had ever had a kid before he died?”_

 

* * *

 

 

Ace woke up in a strange bedroom. That wasn’t a novelty, he was used to sleep in strange bedrooms; he hadn’t had a room he could call his own, even if it was shared, in close to a year now. This one was odder than usual, though: it was larger than any individual cabin Ace had ever slept in, furnished so that it could be serviceable to anyone from his height to three or four times his size.

He supposed the Whitebeard Pirates could afford to have weird ships like this one.

Ace changed his clothes, missing as he usually did the freedom of sleeping naked that being alone had afforded him when he was on his own boat. Sleeping with clothes was annoying, but Ace had never gotten around to buying himself pajamas.

At least the bed was comfortable. Maybe even the most comfortable one he had ever slept in.

Ace stepped out of the room, and immediately regretted putting on the long-sleeved shirt. It had been early autumn last night when he went to sleep, so _of course_ now he was greeted by a sweltering summer morning. A summer morning accompanied by the deliciously unmistakable smell of bacon.

He practically ran back inside to stuff his shirt into his bag, then followed the smell of the bacon to the large and just as odd as the bedroom kitchen he remembered from last night.

There was Marco, standing before the stove and piling freshly cooked bacon on a plate. He was wearing a long-sleeved shirt not unlike the one Ace had just removed.

“Aren’t you hot?” Ace asked without thinking, and only afterwards did he realize that his question could also have a very awkward interpretation. He felt a blush creep up his face.

Marco raised his eyebrows at him and his lips pulled up in a smirk, but thankfully he chose to reply to the innocent meaning of Ace’s question.

“I’m not bothered by temperature changes. I could stand in the middle of a blizzard like this and I’d be fine.”

_Useful_ , Ace thought with a certain edge of envy. A power like that would save Ace money and free space in his bag.

“Can you get started on the eggs?” asked Marco.

Ace nodded and walked up to the fridge. He had cooked with other people before, but those had been meals for large crews, with a dozen people in the kitchen and orders being yelled all over the place. Cooking with another person, the meal meant only for the two of them, was an entirely different experience. There was no hurry, no expectations for things to be done _now_ , and Marco did not bark orders at him. It was an odd experience, just as it was a novelty to eat while he cooked with another person. By the time the rest of breakfast was done there was no bacon left.

 

* * *

 

 

“Where are the oars?” Ace asked after Marco announced that they were close to the Calm Belt.

“Stored just in case, but we won’t be using them,” Marco replied, standing up.

“What? How are we going to cross it then?”

Marco held back a smirk and gestured for Ace to follow him.

“I’ll show you.”

They walked to the lower deck, and all the way back to the room connected to the dials at the back of the ship.

“Have you ever heard of dials?”

“No. What’s that?”

“There are many types, but these,” Marco gestured at the wall and the controls they had set to activate the dials without having to touch them directly (and thus not risking the integrity of the ship with holes in the wall), “allow a ship to move without the need of wind. It takes a little effort to learn to control them, but without wind to push the ship anywhere, moving through the Calm Belt is fairly easy with them.”

Ace looked at the controls, clearly impressed.

“Really? Where do you get them?”

This time, Marco smirked.

“At any sky island.”

Ace turned around, startled.

“You’re _serious_? Those really exist?”

“Despite what many people like to say, yes, sky islands really do exist.” Marco glanced down at the log pose. “Can you go up and yell at me once we enter the Calm Belt?”

 

* * *

 

 

Ace leaned over the railing of the ship, watching as the sea passed them by at a much higher speed than anything they could have accomplished through rowing. Marco had explained the basics of how dials worked, adding that this ship had been designed to make it as easy as possible to handle them, but he also explained that using dials to cross the Calm Belt increased somewhat their chances of drawing the attention of a sea king.

Ace wasn’t particularly worried about that, guessing that he was with someone who could defeat the giant sea kings around here easily enough.

“You’ll fall off, and I can’t fish you out of the water,” Marco told him, sounding slightly amused by Ace’s behavior.

“I can swim,” Ace replied. “As long as you stop the ship, I can’t go this fast.”

 

* * *

 

 

Ace was in the kitchen, looking for something to bring out for them to eat outside (Marco didn’t want to leave the ship unattended in the Calm Belt, and Ace agreed) when the ship shook violently. Startled, Ace ran out to the deck and skidded to a halt, holding onto the door to keep his balance, when he saw the massive head of a sea king close to them. Marco was maneuvering the ship away from the beast’s head. Not out of its reach, though, because that sea king was _huge_.

“What the hell?!” Ace yelled, not moving his eyes away from the sea king.

“I told you this was a possibility,” Marco replied with remarkable calm.

“It’s not attacking,” Ace said, noticing the sea king was just staring at them.

“No. We’re just a curiosity for it.”

Ace turned to look at Marco. He hadn’t thought about that, but he guessed to a sea king of that size they were like a bug to a human.

“You mean it won’t attack?”

“Oh, no. It could decide to crush us at any moment.”

_Of course_.

“Can’t you just get rid of it?”

“If I do that this close to the ship, it might capsize,” Marco pointed out, then fixed a thoughtful look on Ace. “Though we _could_ draw it away. The ship will keep going forward on its own.”

“We? I can’t—“

“Just jump on my back,” Marco said.

Bright blue flames enveloped Marco, and in a moment his human form had been replaced by the blue bird that gave him his epithet. Ace might not be strong enough to fight a sea king of this size, but there was no way in hell that he would refuse a chance to _fly_.

Ace did as told and Marco took off from the deck, moving at a speed that made the air rush around them despite the lack of wind.

“Hold on tight,” Marco said, and Ace closed arms and legs around Marco, squinting to be able to keep his eyes open despite the speed and air.

Marco rushed straight for the sea king, and started circling around its giant muzzle. The sea king followed them with its eyes, and Ace wondered if this was how a fly felt when it circled around a human. If that was the case, it was no wonder that flies were so persistent: this was _fun_.

The sea king opened its mouth and lunged for them. Marco swerved out of the way and pulled back. The sea king followed, failing again to eat then and swimming away from the still moving ship.

“Don’t let go now!” Marco yelled, and suddenly Ace was wrapped around Marco’s very human torso, his head pressed on Marco’s shoulder next to the beginning of a flaming wing, and Marco kicked the sea king’s head with enough strength to push it away

Marco transformed back into a bird and they were soaring higher. The sea king rose in the water to follow them, letting out such a sound of anger that it made Ace’s ears ring.

“Oi, Ace!” Marco yelled, and they spun around in a wide circle, “want to kill a sea king?”

“How?!” Ace yelled back, fully aware that no blow of his would even scratch such a creature.

Marco dove down, nearly to water level, and rose again once the sea king followed with its mouth wide open.

“Shoot it in the eyes.”

Well, at least that was a large target.

Ace reached for his gun, and waited until the sea king was once again rising in an attempt to eat them to fire three times at its right eye. Another too loud howl followed, and the sea king swing around violently. Marco flew dangerously close to its face and Ace emptied the remaining bullets into the left eye.

Then Marco transformed back into his half human form and kicked the sea king’s head. The sea king fell into the water and didn’t rise again.

By now the ship was so far away that the waves the fall created only shook it.

 

* * *

 

 

Marco landed on the deck and waited until Ace had climbed off his back to transform. That had been longer than it should have been, but Marco had figured that it would be good for Ace to kill something as strong as a Calm Belt sea king.

When Marco turned around, there was a grin on Ace’s face, one that reached even his eyes.

Marco grinned back.

“That was fun, right?”

Ace chuckled. It was short, but it was genuine laughter.

“Yeah.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s actually past midnight here, so it’s Friday, but I didn’t have this chapter finished and I had to work on some class stuff first, but here I am now. I haven’t replied to the comments yet, but I wanted to post as soon as possible. I’ll start replying now :)
> 
> There is some graphic violence ahead (or at least as graphic as I ever get), but it doesn’t get to the level that some parts in canon do. Also, I suck at writing action scenes, you’ve been warned.
> 
> Here’s the entry for day 4: Mask. (And again one that barely fits, but shhh).
> 
> If you see more typos than usual it’s because my keyboard has decided to be uncooperative.

South Blue boasted a mostly warm and sunny climate this time of year, given that they were in late June. Ace wasn’t surprised that they had managed to cross the Calm Belt safely, but he _was_ surprised by the fact it had taken them mere hours to do so.

“Where to now?” Ace asked Marco, who had pulled out a map and a slightly crumpled sheet of paper.

“There’s a nearby island that’s both a commercial port and a shipyard. They were headed there next.”

“Shouldn’t you have gone to whatever island they stopped at in the Calm Belt?”

“Ideally, yes, but nobody could tell us which island that was.”

Ace nodded, and he didn’t point out that there was a possibility the ship hadn’t even made it to that island.

 

* * *

 

 

Ace had been to plenty of commercial ports over the years, from tiny ones in the middle of nowhere to those that received dozens of ships each day. A glance at the island they were approaching and he could tell that something was wrong. The dock was wide and clearly meant to accommodate a large number of ships, but there weren’t even ten of them spread throughout the place.

“That’s the ship,” Marco said, pointing to a large vessel on the far left.

“I don’t like this,” Ace said, and Marco nodded in agreement.

Marco maneuvered their ship to anchor it next to the merchant one.

“Let’s go see if there is someone in there?” Ace suggested, pointing at the ship.

“There’s no one,” Marco said with a level of certainty that threw Ace off. Sure, Ace suspected as much, but still…

“How do you know?”

“Haki.” Before Ace could ask, and he had been about to, Marco elaborated. “It’s a long explanation, but let’s say that, amongst other things, haki allows someone to sense the presences of living beings. Aside from a handful of small animals, that ship is empty.”

Ace let out a low whistle. Now wasn’t the time, but he was _definitely_ asking about that in detail later. After all, one of the first rules of any merchant crew was to never leave the ship unattended. This was serious.

“We ask around, then?”

“Yes. Be ready for a fight, just in case.”

“I’m always ready,” Ace said, and Marco threw him a tiny, approving smile.

 

* * *

 

 

They passed two closed bars and a deserted restaurant before they found an open store that was empty save for the woman sitting behind the counter. She jumped to stand up straight when they entered, and busied herself rearranging the few meager goods on the counter. A quick look around proved that most shelves were either empty or nearly so.

 _This just looks better and better,_ Ace thought sarcastically, following Marco to the counter.

“Excuse me, ma’am, may I ask you a question?” Marco asked politely, and Ace very pointedly didn’t throw him an incredulous look. Marco had been nice, sure, but _that_ wasn’t the approach Ace expected from an infamous pirate looking for information.

She threw him a shrewd look.

“You two aren’t from around here, are you?”

Ace put on his best sheepish smile, but let Marco reply.

“I’m afraid not,” Marco said in a very friendly voice. “We just arrived.”

She sighed.

“Go ahead and ask, but I don’t know what I can tell you.”

“Thank you. We’re looking for some friends. Their ship is here, and they must have arrived a little under a week ago—“ Marco stopped when the woman went ramrod straight. His voice, when he spoke again, was far colder and authoritative. “You clearly know who I’m talking about. Tell me everything.”

She hesitated, throwing them an apprehensive look. Ace crossed his arms and put on his best glower.

 

* * *

 

 

“Ace,” Marco said, his voice perfectly even as they walked away from the store, “maybe you should wait somewhere around here.”

“The hell I do,” Ace growled, not bothering to keep his annoyance behind a mask of calm the way Marco was doing. Then again, Marco’s forced calm was scary as all fuck, and judging by the woman’s reaction she had clearly agreed. “You gonna go kill those guys, aren’t you? I’ll make sure nobody gets away.”

Marco looked at him and Ace thought that, under different circumstances, he would have smiled.

Ace nodded.

According to their recently acquired information, this island had been under the control of an up-and-coming pirate crew. As a general rule, no experienced crew of any sort from the New World would have any trouble with a South Blue pirate crew, but this one’s captain was clearly a logia devil fruit user according to the descriptions.

The pirates’ ship was anchored elsewhere to avoid tipping off unaware ships of their presence, and when a large ship anchored on the island they asked for an outrageous sum of money to let them go (Ace was surprised no one had come to their encounter, really). The merchants had refused and there had been a fight.

The bodies were still strewn across the town’s main plaza as a warning.

Ace heard the sound of many feet walking in their direction. He didn’t stop, and neither did Marco. Soon there were around twenty men surrounding them, weapons aimed at them.

“You two came in that tiny ship, didn’t you?” one of the men, Ace was going to assume he was the one leading the group, asked.

“You’re the pirates?” Marco asked back, his mask of perfect calm still there. Nobody seemed to see the warning signs, and clearly they hadn’t recognized Marco either.

Most of the men grinned, some of them even laughed. Ace scanned the crowd to see which ones he should take out first.

“Oh, so you already know?” the leader asked in clear delight. “You’d better hand all your cash over, or you’ll end up like the last guys.”

 _Wrong words,_ Ace thought.

Marco was no longer next to Ace, he had moved at an impressive speed to stand before the speaker and grabbed him by the face.

“Actually, we’d really appreciate it if you took us to see your captain,” Marco said icily.

“What the—? Shoot the other—!” before he could finish the very obvious order, there was an horrible crunching noise as Marco crushed the bones of his face like they were made of bread.

The body fell to the floor, his face completely disfigured, amongst a dead silence as everybody stared.

 _Well, fuck_ , Ace thought, impressed.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Marco said in a conversational voice, wiping the blood covering his hand on his shirt.

The silence lasted a total of three seconds before someone else decided to make a poor life choice.

“Kill them!”

Ace lunged at the two closest pirates and kicked their guns out of their hands, sending them crashing to the ground with the force of the blows. One of them cracked his skull on the pavement, but Ace had to kick the other in the face to take him down. He rolled out of the way of a bullet, came up behind a man aiming to shoot Marco — _talk about useless_ — and elbowed him on the back, following it by a kick to the chin when he fell. Ace ducked to dodge a sword, punched the wielder in the gut and took advantage of the man’s momentary shock to disarm him and stab him with his own weapon.

By the time he stood up, Marco had cleared out all other opponents except for one that he was holding by the neck of the shirt. Both of the man’s arms were at a very awkward angles.

“Well, that’s not fair,” Ace complained.

“You’ll have to be faster next time,” Marco told him offhandedly, then focused on his terrified prisoner. “So, your captain?”

 

* * *

 

 

Ace was the one to punch down the large doors to the pirates’ hideout, which was, unsurprisingly, the largest building in town. The door crashing down and its fragments scattering around half the floor of the large entrance room was a great way to draw the pirates out. They, just as their companions had been, were armed, though these seemed to favor more swords than guns.

“Who the hell are you?!” a man wearing a large and very ostentatious pirate captain hat and far too many jewelry yelled at them, stepping forward and ahead of his men.

Marco threw a quick glance at Ace, a clear ‘let me answer this’, and took two steps forward and into the building.

“I’m Marco, First Division Commander of the Whitebeard Pirates. Are you the scumbag in charge of these weaklings?”

The ‘oh, crap’ expressions appeared on almost every face, to the point where no one reacted in outrage at being called a weakling.

“Whi-Whitebeard Pirates?” the captain stammered, before visibly gathering himself. He seemed to decide that acting quickly was his best option, because he threw a massive column of fire in their direction.

Ace rolled out of the way, but Marco didn’t. Blue fire sprouted all over his body, and he kept a supremely unimpressed expression on until the fire had passed, leaving him undamaged. He then ran forward, crossed effortlessly through all other fire attacks, and kicked the captain on the chest. The kick should have gone straight through the man with no effect, that being the main advantage of logia users against anyone else, but it didn’t. Instead, Marco’s leg connected with the man’s chest and sent him flying all the way across the room and through the wall.

Any hopes these pirates had been harboring dissipated right then, and the ‘oh crap’ expressions took on a distinctive ‘we’re dead’ note when Marco followed their flying captain through the recently formed hole and into the next room.

 _I guess that leaves me with the small fries_ , Ace thought, forcing himself to stop staring.

He whistled to draw the pirates’ attention.

“Now’s when I try to be nice and tell you to put your weapons down if you want the slightest,” _nonexistent_ , “chance to get out of here alive.”

There was a short pause in which they could hear a pained scream coming from where Marco and the captain were.

“Like hell, brat!” one of the men yelled, and Ace sighed, shrugged, and rushed to punch the closest of the men. He quickly moved to the middle of the crowd, to force his opponents to stick to their swords to fight least they got each other killed. Ace doubted these bastards cared much for their crewmembers, but he suspected none of them wanted to die at each other’s hands. He was right, and the few who had their guns drawn reached for their swords.

“Go for the cannons!” someone yelled farther into the room.

 _Cannons?_ Ace thought before an image of a row of cannons circling the upper levels of the building, aimed at the town, came back to his mind. _Fucking hell!_

Ace drew his gun and shot the speaker, but it was too late. Taking advantage of their numbers, half of the crowd focused on him while the rest rushed for side doors.

“You want to _kill_ everybody in town?!” Ace yelled, kicking a man straight into two others. From the screams, at least one of them had been injured. He dodged a guy’s attempts at cutting him down, bent low, and grabbed the guy’s wrist. Ace crushed his wrist and took the long blade from him. He wasn’t the best of swordsmen, but it would make things quicker. “Are you crazy?!”

“You can leave and we don’t kill anyone,” someone whom Ace couldn’t focus on replied with a laugh. Ace fired in that general direction and hit a target. He spun and kicked two men down with enough strength to snap bones.

 _Fucking bastards!!_ Ace thought, enraged that someone was willing to kill an entire town in a bid for survival, and fully aware that there were too many enemies here for him to beat them all _and_ catch up to all the ones who had fled before anyone started firing.

Everybody around him collapsed to the floor, unconscious.

Ace blinked, and in the ensuing silence he could hear a handful of distant thuds.

Ace stared around, completely confused as to what had just happened, until Marco stepped out of one of the side doors not much later, his right foot splattered in blood.

“What did you do?” Ace asked, his confusion bleeding into his voice.

Marco raised his eyebrows.

“Me? Nothing. That was you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I wanted Ace to have an outburst of haki, but I didn’t want to have to write any explanation, so I’m cutting the chapter here :) I hope that wasn’t too forced.
> 
> Originally, I wasn’t going to have the mera mera no mi show up, but I’ve never written a what-if AU in which Ace got that power under different circumstances and a lot of people mentioned it, so here it is.
> 
> You can imagine the entrance to the pirates’ base as being similar to the Strawhat Pirates arrival to Arlong Park.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My internet is finally working! :D I don’t know how long it’ll last, so I’m posting before replying to the comments.  
> Sorry about the delay, but when it rains internet has the habit of just stopping working where I live.  
> Okay, so this chapter, which is the shortest one by the way, has the scene that I first thought of, the one that resulted in this story.  
> Day 5: Questions and Answers.  
> I have no chapter for day 6 (it’s the only one I couldn’t think of anything for), so the story will end tomorrow with day 7.  
> I could revise it due to the delay, but it’s still not beta-read.

Ace stood in the middle of the plaza, watching as the townspeople carried the bodies off to the local hospital’s morgue. If he had to guess, Ace wouldn’t be able to tell whether these people were more grateful of terrified right now. The first brave souls that had approached the pirates’ base, drawn by the sounds of battle, had been scared shitless when they had realized that two people had killed the entire crew, then very relieved when Marco had assured them they weren’t here to take over the island. They had offered to move the merchants’ bodies somewhere safe and keep them until Marco figured out a way to transport them home (unfortunately, Marco and Ace alone couldn’t handle the merchant ship, and there were too many bodies for Marco’s ship. Then, as people came out to help, someone had recognized Marco and the fear had come right back.

As long as these people kept their word and didn’t try anything stupid like calling the marines, Ace didn’t care. He had too much in his mind to think about as it was.

Haki.

Marco had explained it in more detail, and Ace was still reeling at the thought that _he_ had it.

 _Well, there is something I don’t mind having in common with Roger after all_ , he thought with a certain level of dry humor.

Ace saw Marco approaching, followed at a distance by the very dazed-looking mayor of the town. Ace would bet the guy wouldn’t have expected in a million years that Marco the Phoenix would use the den den mushi in his office to call Whitebeard.

“What did he say?” Ace asked when Marco was close enough that there was no need for shouting.

Ace was trying very hard to appear nonchalant about the whole Whitebeard thing, as if he had met the guy and all that. These people had assumed Ace was part of the Whitebeard Pirates, and he saw no reason to correct them. To be honest, he didn’t mind the mistake.

“They’ll send one of our larger ships over, but it’ll be a couple weeks before it arrives,” Marco replied, coming to stand next to him. The mayor politely went in a different direction.

“So we wait?”

Marco’s lips quirked up and he glanced at Ace.

“Yeah, we wait. The mayor has offered us rooms at one of the local hotels, free of charge.”

Ace held back a scoff.

“How scared is he?”

“Not as much as these people, I’d say. He heard my conversation with Pops.”

‘Pops’, what an odd term to address the strongest man in the world, and always spoken with such clear fondness.

 

* * *

 

 

“Ace,” Marco called out in the hotel’s hallway before either of them could enter their assigned room. Marco had been thinking about it almost nonstop on the way to this island, and the answer wouldn’t come out of thin air.

Ace turned to look at him.

“Yeah?”

“Can we talk? In private.”

Ace shrugged, clearly puzzled, and gestured to his door. Marco followed him inside and waited until Ace closed the door. Ace sat on the bed, and Marco pulled out the desk’s chair to sit facing him.

“You don’t have to answer this, okay? But I’ve been wondering… At Mock Town, why did you ask me that question?”

_“What would you think if Gol D. Roger had ever had a kid before he died?”_

Ace looked down at his hands and stayed silent for a few long seconds before speaking.

“It’s something that’s always been in my mind, you know? I grew up with the knowledge that I had to stay hidden from the world —Gramps and Dadan made sure to remind me often to hide who I was.” No mention of a mother. Was she dead after all? “I didn’t really understand, at first, so I started asking random people. I always got similar replies: they’d laugh as if I’d said a really funny joke, then said that if Roger had ever had a kid, that the kid should die. That _I_ didn’t deserve to live. I asked that question for many years, even after leaving Dadan’s place, but I stopped a few years ago. I was sure that everybody thought the same, and I liked the place I’d found. I didn’t want confirmation that those people thought I didn’t deserve to live, too,” Ace trailed off, fiddling restlessly with his fingers and still looking down.

Marco held back many uncomplimentary comments he could make about those people —who the _fuck_ could say an innocent child didn’t deserve to live?— and stood up. He approached Ace and knelt before him, so that he could have a look at Ace’s face. Ace looked resigned, like someone who had long since accepted the status quo.

“Those people had no idea what they were talking about,” Marco told him with as much conviction as he could muster. “They spoke as people who had been fed the government’s propaganda for years. They don’t know shit.”

Ace looked up, a tiny and grateful smile pulling at his lips, and he finally met Marco’s eyes.

“That’s kind of why I asked you. Aside from Gramps, you’re the first person I’ve met who knew Roger.”

Ace’s grandfather had known Roger? Interesting.

“I knew Roger for many years,” Marco confirmed. “But let me tell you this: even if every single horrible story about him out there was true, that would have nothing to do with you. You deserve to live, Ace, whatever the world says,” Marco said, and then smiled. He raised a hand to put it on top of Ace’s own. “And I’m glad I got to meet you.”

Ace looked even more stricken than he had back at Mock Town. He then closed his eyes, let out a long breath, and his lips trembled as if he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to smile or not.

“Thank you,” Ace breathed out.

A long moment of silence passed between them before Ace opened his eyes.

“Can I ask you for something?” he asked Marco.

“Of course.”

“I don’t think I’ll be sleeping anytime soon after this. Could you tell me about some of your adventures?”

Marco nodded and moved to sit on the bed next to Ace.

“Would you like an unbelievable one, an embarrassing one, or a mix of both?”

Ace grinned a little at that.

“A mix of both.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this has definitely not been my week. The weather is still horrible and we didn’t have internet for half of Saturday and the whole Sunday, so I’m posting late again. I also happen to have a fever since Saturday, so this was written while sick and probably will suck. I’m sorry about that.
> 
> Anyway, here’s the last chapter of the story, filling day 7: Free Day (and isn’t that a useful prompt to complete any story?)

Ace woke up in a strange position, wrapped around something warm and firm and with only part of his body resting on a mattress. He forced his eyes to open, just a little bit, and saw that his head was on top of a very characteristic tattoo that he had grown familiar with over the past few days.

_Oh_.

Now, Ace knew that, according to social rules, he should probably jump back, be embarrassed, and stammer a lot when Marco woke up before pretending that this never happened.

Ace didn’t want to do any of that.

This was… nice. Marco was still asleep, with an arm wrapped around Ace’s back, and Ace could hear Marco’s steady heartbeat beneath his ear. Ace was curled up, a leg wrapped over Marco’s own and the foot of the other one dangling off the edge of the bed. He must have fallen asleep at some point while they talked last night, and for some reason Marco chose not to move him. Ace didn’t mind.

Last night had been… interesting. Ace had heard a good number of ridiculous stories that he wouldn’t have expected from the strongest pirate crew in the world. Some of those stories had featured Roger, though, and while Ace’s first impulse had been to ask Marco not to speak about him, Ace had decided to just listen. He had originally agreed to accompany Marco in hopes of proving that he wasn’t like Roger, and learning about him from a trustworthy source had seemed like a good way to do it.

Now Ace didn’t know what to think.

Roger had been… not what Ace had heard for so many years. A crazy idiot, clearly, fond of adventure, food, booze, and with absolutely no idea of what danger was. And he had been dying by the time of his execution. That had been an offhand comment on Marco’s part, but it had shocked Ace into speechlessness. Gramps had never mentioned that (did he even _know_?) and it had thrown all of Ace’s beliefs off balance.

Ace had always thought that Roger simply hadn’t cared. He had never asked about the details of Roger’s capture —he hadn’t cared about such details back then— but this… Ace knew the marines had suspected that Roger might have a son, that they had spent _months_ at his mother’s home island, forcing her to somehow extend her pregnancy to save Ace. And Roger had been caught and executed early enough in her pregnancy to allow her to hide it.

Ace buried his face in Marco’s chest. This was too much, and he didn’t know what to think.

“Are you okay?”

“…Did I wake you up?” Ace asked, glancing up at Marco.

“No. What’s wrong?”

Ace hesitated. It was ridiculous, really, and there was no way to know for sure, but…

“Do you think he cared? Roger I mean.”

“Yes,” Marco replied without hesitation.

Ace jerked up, and he moved to sit and stare down at Marco. Marco lowered his arm to let him move.

“You sound very sure,” Acre said.

Marco sat up as well to face him.

“Roger cared about people. He loved his crew, loved the friends he made, and even some of his rivals. I’m sure he loved you, and he would have been there for you if he’d had the time.”

_Well, fuck_ , Ace thought, his throat closing up. Marco cupped Ace’s face with a warm hand when Ace moved to look down and held his gaze.

“You can’t change what happened, how you’ve grown, or what the world thinks about you right now. All you can do is choose your own actions and thoughts.”

 

* * *

 

 

When Marco returned to the hotel, Ace was still eating breakfast, much to the horror of the staff. Chuckling to himself, Marco sat in front of Ace, at the same place where he had eaten breakfast.

“What are your thoughts on food that tastes horrible?”

Ace said something unintelligible through his current mouthful, swallowed, and tried again.

“Why would I want that when I have all this good stuff?”

Marco grinned.

“Because I have an offer for you,” he said, and placed on the table the devil fruit that he had found in one of the many pantries in the pirates’ base.

Ace stared.

“Aren’t those things super expensive?”

Marco shrugged.

“Yes.”

“Why are you offering it to me?”

“In our crew, whoever finds a devil fruit can decide what to do with it. That’s a very nice power, and I’m sure you’d give it a much better use than its previous wielder. So, what do you say? Are you up to losing the ability to swim?”

Ace grinned and reached for the fruit.

“If you’re sure…” he said, and stuffed the fruit whole into his mouth.

Marco laughed so hard at Ace’s disgusted grimace that Ace kicked him under the table as soon as he was done gulping down juice.

 

* * *

 

 

The town’s inhabitants had started to rebuild what the pirates had destroyed during their stay. As soon as Ace had gotten rid of the fruit’s taste, Marco took him to an area out of town and far from any buildings so that Ace could start practicing with his new power in a relatively safe environment. Marco would start introducing Ace to haki once Ace had enough of a hang on his powers to avoid accidentally turning any part of his body into fire. That had happened, though fortunately away from prying eyes.

“I have another offer for you,” Marco said after Ace had managed to throw a relatively small fireball at the rock Marco had designated as target, “but keep in mind that you don’t owe me _anything_ when you reply.”

“Ominous,” Ace said, still visibly satisfied by his success. “What is it?”

“Would you like to join the Whitebeard Pirates?”

Ace faltered, his mouth going slightly slack.

“Can you even _offer_ that?”

“Of course, everyone in the crew can. Besides,” here Marco grinned, “you’re the kind of guy Pops likes.”

Ace raised his eyebrows in skepticism.

“Really?”

Marco nodded.

“Really. You’re strong, stubborn, and reckless.”

“I’m taking that as a compliment.”

“You should. So, what do you say?”

Ace looked around with a pensive frown.

“Can I think about it?”

Marco nodded. He guessed Ace had a lot in his mind right now.

 

* * *

 

 

Ace spent most of the night awake. In a few days, everything he believed, and everything that defined him, had changed. He was a devil fruit user, a haki user with access to the least common form of haki, had a chance to join the _Whitebeard Pirates_ , and Roger might not have been an absolute monster. Maybe.

Once upon a time, before he left Dawn Island and survival became his main goal, Ace had entertained the thought of becoming a pirate one day, and earning himself such a reputation that Roger’s shadow would stop following him around.

Now, though… Marco was right; Ace couldn’t change the past, nor the fact that he was Roger’s son. He couldn’t get rid of the World Government’s paranoia over the possibility of his existence, and no matter what kind of reputation Ace created, he would only add new reasons for them to want him dead, but he wouldn’t erase the old one.

 

* * *

 

 

“Hey, Marco,” Ace started when they had passed the edge of town on their third day here, “I’ve been thinking.”

“About what?” Marco asked, glancing sideways at Ace. Ace looked serious, but also determined, as if he had reached some sort of decision.

“What would your crew think of me?” Ace asked, and while the question was innocent enough, Marco was certain that Ace wasn’t talking about his personality.

Marco couldn’t avoid raising his eyebrows. That was _not_ something he had been expecting.

“Do you want to tell them?”

Ace grimaced.

“Not really, but it’s likely to come out at some point. The marines suspected enough to show up at my mother’s island and monitor all pregnancies. She had to draw it out for twenty months to protect me.”

_She did what?_ Marco thought, impressed. He guessed that explained why Ace hadn’t mentioned his mother so far; she was unlikely to have survived something like that.

“You’re planning to reveal it before the government can?” Marco asked.

“Sort of, yes. If I join your crew, I don’t think I’ll stay anonymous for long, not with this.” Ace snapped his fingers and sent a thin streak of fire up into the sky. “Gramps is bound to recognize me. I don’t think he’ll tell anyone, but he sucks at lying, and if someone asks…” Ace shrugged.

“Who’s your grandfather?” asked Marco, curious.

“He’s a marine, and Roger asked him to take care of me. His name’s Garp.”

Marco found it difficult not to laugh at the absurdity that also made so much sense. He could see Garp agreeing, and he could also see him insisting so much on keeping Ace hidden that Ace would develop his insecurities. That last thought was enough to suppress Marco’s mirth.

He reached out and put a hand on Ace’s shoulder.

“Nobody who was in the crew back then will have any issues with you, and most people will follow their example, maybe ask some questions about Roger. Others won’t care at all about who your father is, they know everybody is welcome in our crew. If someone _does_ have an issue,” here Marco’s mind flashed to certain allies, “just leave it to me. You’re not Roger, any grudge anyone might hold against him has nothing to do with you.”

Ace stared at him, wide-eyed, for a long moment. Then he grinned.

“Okay. I’ll join your crew.”

Marco grinned back. He moved the hand he had on Ace’s shoulder over his back, stepping closer to wrap his arm over Ace’s shoulders.

“Welcome to the crew.”

** The end **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So in the end this was more of a pre-relationship story than a relationship one, but I hope I managed to convey where these two are going. Having the relationship properly start here seemed forced, because this Ace has a lot more personal boundaries and walls than canon Ace (or any Ace I’ve written before) does.
> 
> Many people have commented about wanting to see Ace meet the Whitebeard Pirates (or even Garp), but as this was a MarcoAce focused event, that didn’t happen in this story. Sorry about that. Most of the Whitebeard Pirates are perfectly okay with Ace from the beginning, Whitebeard is all for immediate adoption (Marco liking Ace, Ace being Roger’s son, and Ace giving a pretty good impression for Whitebeard’s standards is a good combination), Ace will be overwhelmed by the amount of people at first, there will be some tension with certain people like Squard, and Garp will be torn between utter relief because Ace is alive and “what the fuck is he doing with Whitebeard?” There were also some mentions of Sabo and Luffy. Their story goes different, but I won’t give it here because it’s something I’d like to use for another story (if I ever get that far, because I really don’t update that one often).
> 
> I hope you liked the story despite the rushed plotting and writing involved :) I’m off to bed now, and hopefully I’ll have some updates of my regular stories for the holidays.


End file.
